


Handiwork

by flipperbrain



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 22:52:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipperbrain/pseuds/flipperbrain
Summary: Killian Jones and Detective Rogers share a moment together in an alternate universe.





	Handiwork

It’s Friday night and both of them have had a long week. They lay curled together on the sofa, Rogers is massaging Killian’s hand while he relaxes. The half smile on his lips is replaced by an occasional wince of pain as Rogers manipulates the muscle between his thumb and forefinger, the spot that can cramp up and always needs the most attention. He firmly rubs out the knots, pressing along the bones until he begins to feel some loosening in tension, until Killian’s brows look less like thunder clouds gathering on the horizon. Killian groans as Rogers finds a particularly tender place, but he opens his eyes just enough to peer at him and confirm his approval, nodding slightly to signal ‘yes, please keep going.’

Rogers smiles, he understands the strain of one hand doing the work of two only too well. It’s pleasure pain, he thinks… it hurts so good. He chuckles to himself and continues on, attending to each knuckle, bending and extending each slender finger then thumb. He inspects his pirate’s short, well manicured fingernails, kissing the pads of each fingertip before moving on to the palm, wide and weathered. He studies its creases as he kneads, a very long life line, yes that’s true. His eyes betray his youthful appearance, wise and melancholy and beautiful. A long heart line as well, but with gaps. Killian has experienced heart break but he still has an enormous capacity to forgive and to love. He looks fondly at the man lying next to him, his heart swelling a bit as he works. When he’s satisfied all areas have been tended, he threads his fingers between Killian’s long, capable digits and squeezes, bending his wrist forward and back, stretching the tendons and muscles in his forearm.

He watches as Killian’s face relaxes, as the stress of the day fades and is forgotten, then presses a kiss to his forehead smoothing the worry lines away. His lips drift across an expressive brow, an eyelid, then down his chiseled nose to end with a tiny bite on its tip. Killian opens his eyes with a surprised grin but his face softens as he pulls their clasped hands against his heart and holds them there. He leans in to breathe ‘thank you’ against Rogers’ mouth then gently kisses him. His breath catches at the contact, it’s electric. Killian marvels every day at how the mere touch of his detective’s lips can drive him to distraction, can cause an instantaneous swelling in his loins.

They kiss tentatively at first, the lightest touches. Lips brush against each other, silky smooth and soft and warm, then Killian’s tongue seeks entry, licking along his lover’s lips, tasting the strawberries they’d shared earlier. Rogers’ eyes flutter closed as his mouth opens slightly, his full lips clinging together at the corners. Fingers trembling with want find the nape of Killian’s neck drawing him closer as his tongue slips inside his mouth, teasing and circling and exploring. Killian bites down playfully on Rogers’ lower lip but his face is serious now. His hand moves to the small of Rogers’ back pressing hips and thighs tightly together.

They sigh and moan and make quiet sounds as their mouths slant across each other, their hands roaming, legs tangling. Killian’s head dips to kiss Rogers’ neck, skimming the cords and muscles with his lips, smelling the clean scent of soap and aftershave and breathing it in. His tongue tours the hollow of Rogers’ throat, teeth scrape against his Adam’s apple and chin then scruff covered jaw before shifting position. With a quick movement he rolls Rogers onto his back and straddles his rosy-cheeked detective, propped up by his elbows he gazes at the face below him, soaks up the affection in his eyes and watches his full lips curve into a shy smile as his thumb drifts tenderly across his cheek.

Killian sits back to open the plaid flannel shirt he’s wearing and shrug it off as Rogers’ fingertips trace a path along the closure of Killian’s pants and move upward, combing through the thick trail of hair to his muscled chest. Their eyes are locked on each other as Rogers’ pets and pinches a nipple until it’s hard and pebbled. Killian licks his lips and grasps the hem of Rogers’ sweater, pulling it up and off in one continuous motion, then his mouth is on Rogers’ stomach, thirstily kissing and biting, his tongue dipping into a furred bellybutton as he unbuttons and unzips then moves to tug off Rogers’ jeans and toss them aside.

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Rogers’ arms are stretched out above his tilted head, resting on the arm of the sofa, his dark hair ruffled and in disarray. His eyes are soft, the bluest blue, lips parted and cherry red from the friction of their kisses. His eyes flit from Rogers’ face to his strong neck to his chest covered in hair, his necklace resting at an angle, nestled between his breasts. Narrow waist, to firm abs to his sex jutting out swollen and proud and anxious to be touched. One leg hangs off the couch, the other bent, thighs open waiting to cradle him. A vision. A menace.

Rogers grins at Killian’s perusal and flashes his eyes coyly. He reaches for Killian’s belt but the pirate raises an eyebrow and mouths no while flexing the fingers of his newly invigorated hand. With a laugh he lowers himself beside Rogers and kisses him demandingly as his fingernails scratch through the neatly groomed wiry hair sprinkled around Rogers’ stiff erection. He groans as Killian’s hand slips down between his thighs to stroke and fondle and caress before making its way back to his swollen length, gasping as he takes him in his hand. He palms the delicate skin, fingers gripping its thickness and tracing its bell-shaped tip, finding the wetness that has begun to leak from its small opening.

This time Killian is the one watching as they kiss, as his hand massages and teases. Rogers’ eyelashes lay thickly against his cheekbones, eyebrows arched innocently as his hand strays to cover Killian’s while he works. To demonstrate what he wants. Long strokes that travel up over the head, gripping and squeezing it roughly it then back down. Rogers craves a fierce and passionate touch tonight and his tongue affirms his pleasure, probing deeply into his lovers mouth as two hands pump in unison.

His hips begin to buck in rhythm, grinding against the stroking motion of their fists, moaning into Killian’s mouth and hungrily sucking and biting his lips and tongue as the pace quickens. Faster, my love. Harder. More. He opens his eyes and searches Killian’s face, wanting him to see when he falls. He’s so close now, his movements become increasingly sloppy and with panting breath he stutters ‘I’m …coming’ followed by throaty cursing groan, as the blood rushes to his head and his climax overtakes him.

Killian sees and feels the first pulse of Rogers orgasm as he cries out, and moves fast to catch the spurting liquid in his mouth as he comes. His tongue laps greedily along the shaft throbbing between his lips, his head bobbing in sync with his hand as it strokes and squeezes and tugs. Rogers’ clutches and pulls handfuls of Killian’s hair as he takes the full length of him into his mouth, swallowing the salty fluid as it hits the back of his throat. He looks up at Rogers’ face, his eyes squeezed shut, lips drawn back as he grunts and grinds until with one long final thrust the last drops pour out of him onto Killian’s tongue.

Completely spent, Rogers relaxes into the cushions with an ‘oof’, his chest heaving. Killian snuggles next to him and drags the blanket off the back of the sofa to cover them both, then gathers him into his arms raining light kisses on his face damp with sweat. He wipes away a strand of hair on his forehead then looks at his hand and grins, very well tended and capable indeed.


End file.
